service, I will tell you all; for if I quit you, it will only be to go to the scaffold."
"That is different," replied Monte-Cristo; "but if you intend to tell an untruth, reflect it were better not to speak at all."
"No, monsieur, I swear to you, by my hopes of salvation, I will tell you all, for the Abbe Busoni himself only knew a part of my secret: but, I pray you, go away from that plane-tree; the moon is just bursting through the clouds, and there, standing where you do, and wrapped in that cloak that conceals your figure, you remind me of M. Villefort."
"What!" cried Monte-Cristo, "it was M. de Villefort?"
"Your excellency knows him?"
"The former procureur du roi at Nimes?"
"Yes."
"Who married the Count de Saint-Meran's daughter?"
"Yes."
"Who enjoyed the reputation of being the most severe, the most upright, the most rigid magistrate on the bench?"
"Well, monsieur," said Bertuccio, "this man with this spotless reputation"
"Well?"
"Was a villain."
"Bah!" replied Monte-Cristo, "impossible!"
"It is as I tell you."
"Ah, really!" said Monte-Cristo. "Have you proof of this?"
"I had it."
"And you have lost it; how stupid!"
"Yes; but by careful search it might be recovered."
"Really," returned the count, "relate to me, for it begins to interest me."
And the count, humming an air from Lucia di Lammermoor, went to sit down on a bench, whilst Bertuccio followed him, collecting his thoughts. Bertuccio remained standing before him.
